


Not a Small issue

by Escritora2Aliasfox



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Drama, Slight Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-03-31 02:53:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13965813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Escritora2Aliasfox/pseuds/Escritora2Aliasfox
Summary: Robert prefers to leave Joseph alone for the most part, that is, until something precious to him goes out the window. Then he threatens his beloved reputation.Drama, slight AU, rare pairing (but not so much) special for Robert-lovers and Joseph-haters(EDITED)





	1. Chapter 1

There was a barbacue at the Christiansen’s house, but no one saw the baby.  
The parents said the poor thing had been born sick, and it was best not to bother him in any way. But Robert didn’t buy it.

He knew something no one else in the city suspected.  
Well, perhaps Neil.

Robert understood that she wouldn’t drink during the pregnacy, and that she needed her space, and even that Joseph’s reputation was important  
But he had a suspicion.  
The story about the illnes was suspicious.

 

The day of the barbacue, while all of the neighbours in the cul-de-sack were chating over a burger, he slipped upstairs as silently as he could, and sneaked into the baby’s room. He needed to see it.

There were no papers, no medical-looking supplies, no special baby looking medicine anywere. It was the simplest baby room he had ever seen. It was not even specially clean. There were clotes and toys in the floor and a suspicious smell told him someone forgot to change the bag from the diapper bin.

He carefully poked his head over the craddle, and with a deep sight, a knowing semi-smile came to his face.

It didn’t look like a weak or sick baby. It looked normal and healthy. Perhaps a bit too much. That is, he looked nothing like Joseph.  
Nor like his kids.  
It was funny, really. Someone could argue that he looked like perhaps someone in the mother’s side, but, knowing the two men, and specially knowing the situation, it was just obvious.

Perhaps he was projecting his thoughs into it, but he was pretty sure this baby was his.  
He just knew.  
He lowered one hand, and graced the little one’s forehead. Just in case. There was no fever. That, together with everything else, convinced him.

He was not an expert, but he didn’t think this baby was sick. Had it been, he would still be in the hospital.  
No. That was not the reason why no one was allowed to look at him.  
It was his dark baby hair and a bit bronzed skin.

Robert’s finger traced off and, still on his sleep, the little one held his finger so tight.  
Robert beamed and cooed at the baby, before he was interrupted.

 

“what are you doing?”  
Robert only turned his head to look at Joseph.

“oh, I was just… uh… saying hi”  
He went back to looking at the baby.

“You can not be here. He’s sick”  
“…doesn’t look sick to me”  
“Robert. Get. Out”

The tone was threatening now. You don’t hear that very ofther from Joseph. Robert looked up, now serious, and waved his hands in the air.

“Ok, ok. Im out” –for now- he thought, but didn’t say it. Joseph kept looking at him intensly as he passed by him, and down stairs.

 

Less than a week later, there was jet another get-together at the Christiansen’s house.  
This time, everyone dressed in black.

“…yesterday morning he was not breathing” Joseph explained to a little group of neigbours, with heaby heart “We tried to reanimate him, and we rushed him to the hospital, but it was too late”

He kept thanking the guests for all of their support, but Robert didn’t buy one word.  
He went straight for Mary.

“What’s all this bullshit?”

She looked shocked, cup of wine in hand and black dress on. She just stared at him in shock.

“What bullshit?”  
“The story of the dead baby. I don’t buy it. He’s fine. He was fine when I saw him”  
“You saw him?”  
“I sneaked upstairs”  
“Jesus, Robert”  
“I know why you wouldn’t show him off. He looks nothing like Joseph”  
“Shhh”  
“Mary. Where is him?”  
“…he’s dead”  
“I’ll believe that when I see it”  
“Robert, no”  
“Mary where is my son”  
“Robert, stop it”  
“What did you do with our child, Mary?”  
“Shut up!”

Robert had been rising his voice. Mary made one of her gestures, and without puting down the cup, she pushed Robert over to the kitchen, and closed the door behind them.

Robert stared at her, expectant. She took one last sip of wine, put the glass down and spoke.

“Joseph won’t raise a kid that is not his. We’ve been arguing all week. It was exausting…”

She knew that face. It was Robert’s ‘you’re starting to sound like excuses’ face.

“…I don’t want that kid to grow up in a family that does not love him. He does not deserve that. Its miserable. He deserves a chance, and that’s what I got him”  
“… Meaning”  
“We gave him up for adoption”  
“…”  
“…”  
“what?”

Robert didn’t register Mary’s gestures nor words. He couldn’t process this.  
When it started to sink in, he took a hand to his mouth and finally reacted.

“No. No that can not be. You can’t do that. You can’t do that”  
“Yes, Robert. That is”  
“That is ilegal. You can not give a child up without the consent of the father. You can’t”  
“You are not his father”

Robert punched the top of the counter so hard, everything on it tingled. He did not register the pain in his fist.

“Yes I am”  
“Joseph is the father of my kids”  
“Then why would he give up his own kid? Uh? He’s not the father. I am”  
“Robert”  
“I want a DNA test. And I want the custody. Bring him back”

Mary denied with a gesture

“Robert… no. Think”  
“Its my baby, Mary. Its my kid”  
“Shh!”

He was raising his voice

“Shut up”  
“Mary. You get him back”  
“No!”  
“I want him back. He’s my son. Mary! Give him back!”

He crashed the cup standing in the counter next to her, and kicked a chair nearby to the floor. She flinched.

“Give me back my son, Mary!”  
“Robert, Stop! You’re scaring me”  
“Oh, am I scaring you? Im so sorry. I was just freaking out, becouse you stole my son!”

“what is this?”  
Joseph was standing in the door. Behind him, several neighbours looked at them with worried expressions. Joseph’s face was unredeable.

“Oh, you know what is happening. You want me to say it out loud?”  
“Robert, please!”

Joseph walked up to him faster than usual. His face was in between his real expression and his inocent, friendly mascarade

“We are all very afected for what’s happened, specially Mary. Please, calm down”  
“Oh, shove it up your ass, you…”  
“HEHEY!!”

Brian suddenly appeared right in between the two men. He was the largest guy in the cul-de-sac, and if he couldn’t easily handle someone, he could rival anyone.

“Why don’t we handle whatever this is outside? You are scaring the kids”

Both men lingered there for a second, but then, Robert finally released a breath and patted Brian on the shoulder.

“Right. See you later”

He looked at no one as he walked out. Though all the ayes were on him.

“Are you guys allright? Im so sorry for what’s happened”  
Brian spoke after he had left.  
“Oh, it’s nothing. You know, the news were… shocking, and he… gets nervous when he drinks”

 

Robert drove his pick up truck only across the corner. He went back to the Christiansen’s house and, carefully, looked for a way in.  
All of the guests were inside or on the back.  
There was the front door and several big windows.  
Above the door, next to said windows stood a small porche with a tilted roof, more windows to the side.

He made sure no one was looking and jumped to hung off the roof, leveled himself on one of the porch lamps, and got on top.  
Geez, he was geting too old for this shit.  
That was the easy part: he had to reach one of the second floor windows from the tiny roof. Luckily, one of them was a flinch open.

Standing on the roof, with one hand on the base of the window, he opened it with the other, and in a jump, he was firmly hunging from the open window.  
Now, with one last impulse, he crawled inside.

Fuck, he would feel that later.

He breathed deeply and looked around: it was a bathroom. It didn’t looks like a kid’s bathroom, so It was Mary and Joseph’s.  
A carefull peek throu the door. All the noise came from downstairs. It was clear.

He hurried over to the baby’s room. Some things like the craddle were already gone.  
He tried not to think of it and went to the next room: the studio. There was a desk, and wardrove, and an endless bookcase.  
It had to be here somewere, and he would find it if he had to get out every damn book one by one.

He emptied one of the drawers. Checked the papers and put it all back in place. Next one. Nothing. It was getting frustrating. He looked inside the wardrove, removing every corner and then to the bookcase…

“What are you doing?”

He turned arround in one jump. It was Chris. He stood on the doorway lookign at him.

“I am… looking for something”  
“Money?”  
“No. No, a paper. A special, large paper, like the ones the doctor has”  
“… why?”

He went for a risky move.

“I’ll tell you a secret. But you must promise not to tell anyone” He kneeled in front of the kid, making a serous face

“I am a ghost hunter. I watch over this city. And, whenever someone dies, I make sure they go to heaven. Remember your baby brother?”  
“…he is not in heaven?”  
“I don’t know, but if I can find the doctor’s papers, I’ll make sure he goes there. Now. Do you remember seeing him sick?”

Chris thinks for a second and denies with his head  
“And at the hospital?”  
“No. I was at grandma’s”  
“Ok” He avoided releasing a deep breath “Now, do you remember your parents handling any big papers around when your brother was sick, or after he left?”

Chris took a moment.  
“Mom had them. …She was on the room”  
“Thats it. Good boy! I’ll make sure he gets there ok?”

Robert got up and and into the room. Chris, after a moment of doubth, run downstairs to his father.

“Daddy!”  
Joseph was talking to someone else. Chris had to pull of his sleeve to get his attention.  
“Dad, listen!”  
“Chris! I told you to dress in black. At least a shirt”  
“You said Criss was in heaven”  
“…what?”

Robert looked under the bed, and only found a couple empty boxes and a pair of shoes. Then he registered the nightstands and the dressing table. Nothing. He was starting to panic when he lifted his gaze of the drawers and saw, standing in front of the mirror, an enmarked, smal picture of a baby covered by black lace.

In an impulse, he took and registered it.  
Behind it, just held with some tape, there was one single piece of paper, clumsily folded. Scaning it fast he caught the word ‘adoption’

Finally, a breath of relieff.

“You again, Robert?”

He didn’t turn. It was Joseph. He had to play it cool. He had what he wanted.  
He pretended to look at himself in the mirror, combing his hair, and talked loudly to hide the crack of the paper he was carefully holding under his pit.

“Oh, sorry Joseph. I needed to powder my nose”

Play it cool. Play it cool.

“My condolences” He said, as he walked downstairs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert is very generous: he makes Mary an offer with posibilities and gives her one day to think about it.
> 
> A day is a lot to think. It makes him restless.

Betsy greeted her master as usual when he got home, but this time, he barely patted her with a quiet voice. And looked around.  
His house was confy and even fancy, and lately, it was less of a mess than usual. Like the rest of his life. 

It was a lot of cool lies to hide the misery underneath. That is, untill he started suspecting that Mary could be expecting his kid.  
He took his time to asimilate the posibility. What then?  
He had tried to be a better man again and again, desperatedly, but he had never got back in the right track since he lost Val and his wife.  
Could this be a second chance? Could it make him strong enough to be better, finally?

Cleaning up, and trying to keep it that way and reading a couple books to refresh his memory had been a few of the tasks he tried to accomplish during the time of Mary’s distant pregnacy.

He let himself fall face first into the bed, and lied there for a few seconds.  
The tiny dog jumped on and made a worried noise. Robert reached for his phone.  
He doubted for a few moments, but he made the effort, and dialed.

 

“…Dad?”  
“Hey, Val. How ‘you doin?”  
“Im… working, right now. But it is nothing urgent, just cheching some pictures for a cover… so, yeah. What about you?”  
“uhm. Nothing. Just, thinking”  
“…Dad, did something come out?”

Robert breathed deeply and passed his hand across his face.

“…I just wanted to check on you. I… figured it would be good, to talk. From time to time. You know?”  
“… dad. I apreciate it. I know it must not be easy, and yes. Whenever you want to talk, Im one call away. For anything you wanna tell me”  
“…” sigh “Ok, so maybe something came up”  
“I knew it!”  
“I hadn’t tell you before, becouse I was not sure of it. But now I know for sure, eh, more or less… yes. And it is not easy”  
“What did you do?”  
“…Its nothing ilegal, kiddo. …not what I’ve done, I think”  
“Is this a prank? You know is not gonna help our relationship right?”  
“Its not a prank, Val. Something is up. But… I still have to work throu it, and I can not tell you now. Just though I’d give you a heads up”  
“… So, you called me just to tell me something’s up. But you can not tell me what’s it”  
“yeah”  
“…Ok. Thats, good, I guess. Baby steps”  
“Right. Baby steps” 

Why it had to be babies?

“You’ll call me again when your ready”  
“Sure”  
“Good. I hope you’re doing fine”  
“…me too, kiddo”  
“… good talk”  
“Love ya”  
“…yep. Love ya. Ok, bye”

 

He put down the phone and carassed the dog, looking at the ceiling, his brain fuming with questions.

Was he doing better? Could he do this? Or he was already too old? Maybe this was for the best… no. Val would help. She was young, she was capable… she would help, right?

He decided to relax and sleep, but he found it too hard.

He was trying to lower his drinking rate, but he couldn’t cut it suddenly, right?   
He got up, put on an old, romantic movie, served himself a shot of wisky, and drank it slowly. Just one.  
He then let himself fall on the bed, and tried to drift to sleep with the backgroudn sound of casablanca.

 

Mary wouldn’t answer the phone.  
Nevermind. It was Sunday. He just waited outside the church.

She saw him, and, with a giantic eye roll, she left Joseph behind to go talk to him.  
Her husband watched quietly from the distance.

“What do you want?”  
“a beer and a mc cheese”  
“Not funny, Robert”  
“right. I want the custody of my son”  
“Are you serious!?”  
“Yes”  
“uhg! …what are you gonna do with him? roll it up and smoke it?”

Robert breathed deeply, eyes glued on hers

“I want him. Mary. I do”  
“Well, I am his mother and I want the best for him”  
“do you know how life is at the orphanage? They earned their fame. Or changing from one shelter family to the other?”  
“He’s a newborn baby. He’ll get adopted in no time”  
“Look” he changed his weight from one foot to the other “I am trying to quit smoking. Or at least do it less often. And drinking. I am doing better, I believe, honestly I can be better than the orphanage”  
“Robert…”  
“Look, if that’s what bothers you, no one has to know. We can keep it quiet, I will move away to a diferent city and not bother you anymore”

Mary was looking down. Maybe considering it.

“Or” he continued “I can call the police, prove with one DNA test that he’s mine and sue you, your husband, and your entire christian comunity”

She looked at him. Pissed. He glared back. No more words.  
Mary turned arround and walked away.

“I’ll give you a day” Robert said after her. And he walked towards his truck.  
But he stood there a moment.   
He didn’t like this. Mary was his drinking buddy, his friend. She got him, and he got her. It had suddenly changed, and it was never going to be the same.  
He missed it. The nights going back home drunk and singing. He really missed it.

 

He drove to his spot on the top of the hill and lit himself a cigar to think.

He didn’t do this. It happened. The last thing he had done to deserve this was conforting his friend… and sleeping with her.

Ugh. He knew he would regret that.

Mary had been unhappy for years, but she was not the cheating one. She would flirt with extrangers and drink and have fun but she never left with any of them.  
That is, ‘til she knew that Joseph was cheating on her.  
Robert hadn’t expected to see her crying. It was rare to see her being… defenseless.  
He had offered to take her home as usual, but she refused. She didn’t want to go home to Joseph. Not tonight.

So he took her to his place, pushed her to the bed and took the couch for himself like a gentleman. Again, and again, and again as it started happening quite often.  
Finally, Mary won the argument.   
‘its not fair that I keep your bed from you’

He knew, back then, in that moment, that he would regret this.

They shared the bed at a safe distance that night, and many others, but they were both miserable and lonely. And time, lonliness and dessperation did the rest. They ended up conforting each other in bed, whenever they were feeling most misserable.

 

Robert grew restless remembering how it scalated. Wich one had been the point of no return? What could he have done to avoid this mess? …or was it not so bad and he was just…?

He shook his head and dove into is jacket and jeans to get the knife and a piece of wood. Witling helped him think.

His brain relaxed with the familiar distracton and his thoughs started flowing more easily.  
It hadn’t felt wrong, at first. After so much resistance, getting the release they both needed had felt… like a huge weight off theyr shoulders.  
He had never though of Mary as his lover, nor his… whatever. She had kept being his friend. 

After that, they had kept drinking, and singing, and chatting and habing fun. Like what happened in the room (only in their lowest moments) was a casual and forgotten dream.

It was the pregnacy what caused the sudden change.  
It was serious now, and it was helpless.  
Should he give up the baby and let things be?

…

No. No turning back now. 

 

He shook his head. Back to the present.  
He wasn’t going to leave this baby on his own. He wanted to be there for him. He was doing better with Val, and with himself, and he would at least do what he was always doing: try

…and if he failed? Again?

A deep breath came out trembling.

He took a general look at the piece he was carving.  
This one was already started: no bark, no defined form jet.  
He kept cutting away as the day went by, and soon he discovered what could look like… a rabbit? A running rabbit perhaps?

He took a look at it and gave it the finishing touches. It was kinda cute.  
An image asaulted him: of the little kid playing with this.  
Oh. That was an idea. He could make toy pieces for him to play.  
Val use to play with some of them. what would he like?

He left the jumping bunny rest next to him, a little smile showing up when it stood on its own, and took a different stick.

Images of cool or cute animals appeared on his mind as posibilities for this one.  
A bear, perhaps? He wondered if, finding the right piece, he could make a lion.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert and Joseph sit down to talk about it. It can not end well.
> 
> Here goes the scene for wich all of the fanfiction was written.  
> There were different versions, I hope you like the result.

The Coffe Spoon was cozy, with a nice hambient and music… and yet he spent the rest of the day thinking of the damn thing! Over and over!

He was restless. He could do nothing becouse he gave Mary a day to think. He could not go to the Jim and Kim’s ‘cause he wanted to drink less, and he couldn’t tell anyone, sinse his offer included silence. He had even offered to move somewhere else!  
He would probabbly need more space, anyways.

It was finally dark when he parked his truck on his lawn and… was assaulted by a familiar, calm voice.

Joseph’s voice.

 

“Mary told me… what you said to her”  
“…”  
“…I was hoping we could talk about this. …maybe reach a deal?”

Robert breathed deeply. He craved for a cigar. 

“Okay” He said, and folowed the blond.

There was not much talk as they walked away from the cul-de-sac and along the bay. They got to the dock.

“Your yatch. You serious?”  
“…I was hoping to talk of this over a drink. …been saving it for a special ocasión”  
“…fine.”

He wanted to get over this.

 

He finished his cigar looking at the dark sea over the board, and threw the remins to the water before sitting down, as Joseph placed a couple shot glasses and a bottle of quite good wiskey in the small table.  
Joseph filled them both and made a silent cheer, before starting to speak.

“So. You are serious? You want custody over Criss”  
“Yes. Though it’s not gonna be Criss. No ofense”  
“None taken. But, Robert, let me be blunt about this…”  
“Please”  
“…why? Why do you want it? Is it… for money or…?”  
“No. Why would I…?” –breathe- “I don’t have financial problems”  
“But can you aford the inmense cost that supposes rasing a child?”  
“Yes, Joseph, I can”  
“Allright. But, is not just about the money… you don’t think you are a bit old for… having kids?”

Robert breathed deeply. He knew Joseph. He was making excuses while trying to get somewere. He summoned all of his patience and answered.

“I am not much older than you, Joseph”  
“Yes, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean any…disconfort”

Right

“Just… see, the kid may or may not be mine…”  
Robert gulped down the wiskey to avoid saying anything

“…but I have spent with him all of his existance, and I can’t help but care for it…”  
“Yeah, that’s why you gave him away, uh?”

Joseph’s time to breathe. He filled again the glass.

“I don’t mean to hurt you, Robert. But we both know you are not at your best, exactly, and raising a child is not a task that one takes on a wimp”  
“I am not doing this on a wimp”  
“I didn’t…”  
“I have respected Mary’s space during the pregnacy but I didn’t wait with my arms closed. I’m ready to do this”  
“…so, you think this… baby could be a chance for you to get better? Shouldn’t you be thinking on what’s best for him?”  
“I have a daughter, she didn’t turn out half bad, you know?”

Joseph noded in silence. He gave Robert a moment, and it felt like an eternity. Robert was starting to feel the hit of the wiskey on an empty stomach, thou he had eaten something. He had hoped to be over with this soon.

“I though we were here to make a deal”  
“yes, see. Mary and I think that, if you just… took some time to, get beter or even reconsiderate…”  
“Fuck no”

Joseph lifted his gaze, straight to Robert’s angry eyes  
Angry like a wolf defending his den

“I already made you an offer. We can do this quietly and I’ll leave you alone or tomorrow morning I go to the authorities and splash as far as I can go”

 

There, for a moment, Robert could recognice Joseph’s true colors, as he breathed deeply, still, turning the weels in his head. He closed his eyes and nodded, slowly.

“Okay. You win. We’ll do it your way. In silence”  
“Good. I don’t really care, as long as it’s over”  
“Right. It’ll be over soon, I promise you, Robert. Mary and I’ll call the orphanage first thing in the morning, and thell them there was a mistake. You should be there, uh… we’ll think of some place neutral”  
“The hospital’s good” Robert offered “I can claim the DNA test as you call the responsables”   
“Yes, right…”

Joseph took the wiskey shot and offered another cheer.

“For a new begining”

Robert rose the glass and gulped it down… and felt kind of empty.  
Like the glass was heaby. Like he was… numb, and couldn’t hold it right. Some of the wiskey hadn’t make it to his mouth and was dripping down his lips. Odd.

He noticed his head spining. ‘shit’s strong’ he tried to say, but his lips and tounge were suddenly miscoordinated, and he could only mumble.

“…what”  
Breathing deeply, he tried to get up, and fell clumsily to the floor, where he stood, the world a dark swirl around him.

His mind could make out the echo of Joseph’s voice somewhere.

“You scared me. I thoug it wasn’t working”  
“…what”

 

Joseph grasped The other man by the ankles and dragged him across the floor, closer to the cabinet. Robert’s sharp instincts ringed on his ears, fighting back the confusion and he tried to make out the place where he was.

He was lying in the floor. Drunk? Feeling sick. On drugs. Someone, Joseph was doing something… that was bad. He tried to kick Joseph away, and then noticed a tight weigt around his ankle.  
Red flags rose. As numb as he was feeling, a rush of adrenaline shook his sistem.

He struggled, tried to get up, Joseph pushed him back down. He reached nearly instictly for his pocket knife…

Joseph used all of his force to lift the large shack of rocks he had prepared earlier that day, trembling with nerviosism. It was almost over! And it was working! As though as Robert was, he was being so slow and docile with the efect of the drug.

The shack fell off the board, and Robert was janked up, his foot in the air.  
It was quite easy to lift him over the board, as much as the man struggled and held onto him.

 

The water was so dark, Robert Small dissappeared instantly, after one single loud splash. Joseph held onto the rail of his boat looking at the spot where he had been engulfed, panting, for a few seconds. 

The freezing water shook him before he could take a breath. Still Robert held what little air he had left, and produced his knife merely by reflex.

He had to hold onto his leg in orther to reach his foot, and started frantically cutting the rope.

He didn’t have much air, but the knife, prepared to cut ramdom wood was sharp and his grip strong… though clumsy, the drugs still tingling at the end of his senses.

The heavy shack attached to his foot had reached the bottom: it was not too deep here. If he could just cut the rope, he could reach the sweet, fresh air in two or three impulses  
But he run out of bubbles, and was just barely past the middle of the rope  
He kept trying to cut as he felt his insides burn and combulse, and everything went dark.

 

The bright light of the sun and its burn on his face woke him up.  
He tried to move off the pain, but it was all over his body and the moment he had minimal conciousness he started coffing violently. He had a shore throat, and his lung complaining for merely breathing.

He tried to roll on his side, maybe to make the process easier, and he saw it:  
He was still holding his knife tightly. It hadn’t failed him.   
He just let himself lie back, somewere in the bay, nearby the dock, and catch his breath.


End file.
